Murderous Minds Think Alike
by Mistress of the Sand
Summary: If you like Gaara, or Itachi, or reading about Gaara, or Itachi, then CLICK ON THIS TITLE! GaaraOc ItachiOC
1. The Official First Chapter

A/N: Hello out there! I'll get around to removing and reposting Disorder one o' these days, I swear! This is a fic I started for **scythemistress** on her birthday. (Read her stuff please. And just so you know, I co-authored that Gravi fic) The character Kurai is based on her her, and is other than that totally original. Gaara's demon wasn't sealed, right? It wasn't in this fic. Not before…anyway, I would-ah fuck it. Just read.

'My give a damn's busted.'

* * *

Gaara heard his alarm go off in a series of high-pitched beeps, alerting him that it was 6:30 am. Time to get up. He rarely ever needed to, but there were some nights when the day's strain had been too much for him. At those times he napped. It was a common misconception throughout the sand village that he _couldn't_ sleep. In the past, he himself had thought it was that way, when in reality it just wasn't good for him to sleep. The whole stealy personality thing. Gaara liked his personality, unstable and psychotic as it had been from lack of sleep. (A/N: Damn the double-edged sword that is Shukaku… gives the finger to a kettle in the corner of room>) So he hadn't slept. Until the recent developments of his Kazekageness.

Demon or no, Sunagakure was in need of a competent Kage. The Akatsuki was still a very imminent threat to all those who hosted demons, and grand total of TWO on record. Precautionary measures were taken. Try as they might, the skilled shinobi of the sand village could only manage to partially seal Shukaku. Reason being that the only known way to fully seal something was to use 'that jutsu'. The one both the third and fourth Hokages of Konoha died performing. Enough said. So, through the efforts of some of his fellow villagers, Gaara was able to sleep every once and a while. But he had yet to dream. That was something he had always been fascinated with, the concept of dreaming. He realized the beeper was still beeping, (A/N: Swiper no swiping!) so he leaned over and turned it off. He loved to wake up hating the alarm like any other person would. But he was still a bit wary of sleep, so he settled for just hating it.

It was like this almost every morning; he would "get up" at the earlier stated time, take off his pajamas (a gift from Temari that was almost blasphemous but held sentimental value), shower, brush his teeth, stare at his hair in the mirror for a few minutes (it never cooperated) comb it and then get dressed and go into his office and do stuff. He left his official Kazekage robes on the back of his official Kazekage chair that went under his official Kazekage desk inside his official Kazekage office, so he never worried about putting those on in the morning.

He began mentally reviewing what his official Kazekage duties for the day were. Eat, look at papers, take reports and complaints from citizens,assign missions. Then he had to talk to the members of his council, old people who were obsessed with filial piety and traditions. He had inherited them from his father. They were the people who had probably discussed with his father all the assassination attempts made on him. Before he had met the Council, that thought used to make his blood boil with rage. Now, seeing their false smiles and overcompensation for the wrong they done so that they could maintain their positions and titles, it just filled him with a apathetic hollowness. They '-sama'ed him this, 'hime'ed him that, but other than that never acknowledged him. He hated their properness. It made him nauseous, and for that he took something. There was something else about today, but he couldn't quite remember it. Oh well. Somebody'd tell him sooner or later.

He opened the door adjoining his living quarters to the official Kazekage office, crossed the room to his desk and pulled out his chair; preparing to sit, as he did every morning. But this morning, the chair gave resistance to his pull. Almost non-existent eyebrows raised, Gaara jerked the chair back to reveal a girl looking up at him from the hollow of his desk; the space where normally his chair and lower body would occupy. Finding no words that would do anything for this situation, Gaara just stood there and looked.

* * *

So how was that? I'm a slow typer, but with this fic I'm going to try and update at LEAST every week. I know I am probably going to beflamed for my short, wordy chapters, but I really want feedback.Tell where I can improve if you're going tobe overly critical. If you've read this far, you must have an opinionabout this fic, and(again) I'd like to hear it.So REVIEW! Thanks. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This was actually written down on March 28th. For those of you who were drawn to the title, scythemistress came up with it. And the "My give a damn's busted" came from Michelle (a.k.a, Shelly-san) SO this is where the fic actually starts. I only got so far in typing the first chapter, so this is the "Official First Chapter" continued. I am so lazy it's not even funny. I was in Williamsburg for a few days, and could not type at all. Although, I did get a lot of writing for this fic done. I even had to write some of this on napkins. This will be one of my rare long chapters

'You can't have everything; where would you put it?'

"Hi." The girl said, just looking up at him. "I'm under this desk, as you probably already know. Unless you're blind, which is highly unlikely being as you're staring pointedly at me."

Again, Gaara found no words. "Man, the Kazekage has a clean under desk." Oddly enough, Gaara found a word.

"Thanks."

" What for? I complimented the Kazekage's-oh do you do the cleaning? Is that why you said thanks?" she said, a completely fatuous smile lighting up her face.

"No." Another word on Gaara's part.

"Oh." She replied, sounding disappointed. "Then why did you say thanks? Ah, you've got awesome hair!" she shouted, seemingly forgetting about the question she had just asked. "I have a friend who's got hair almost the same color as yours. But different." She said, putting a hand to her chin and looking up.

"Why are you under my desk." Gaara deadpanned as she brushed invisible dust off her clothes.

" I slept here." She said matter-of-factly. Gaara found that statement a bit unnerving, being as he lived on the other side of that wall. "And it isn't YOUR desk, it's the Kazekage's. And he's probably going to be here soon, so unless you've got a reason to be here, I think you should leave. Not to sound rude." She added hastily, standing up. She apparently had forgotten that she was still under the formerly mentioned desk, judging by the ensuing 'thunk' and cry of pain. She stood up all the way, staggered a bit, then righted herself using one hand to support herself by leaning on the desk and the other to rub the back of her aching head. Then she sneezed. "Ah. Someone must be thinking about me."

"I was thinking of possible reasons why you would be under my desk."

"So you're still on the "it's my desk" thing. But if it was your personal desk, that would make you the Kazekage. And the Kazekage wears a hat. I don't see no hat." She stated, crossing her arms.

"So I'm not the Kazekage because I'm not wearing the hat? Is that the only reason?" Gaara asked.

"No. You're too young, your hair is too messy, you've got a tattoo on your forehead, you're too skinny, you've got eyes like a panda, you're too good-looking and you're not wearing the robes." She said, ticking off one of her fingers with each reason.

"In regards to the hat, I refuse to wear that absurd thing."

"Good call." She said nodding.

"It's just for show-"

"It's only for show-" They both cut off, having said "it's" and "for show" in unison. There was a brief silence.

"And you're not really the Kazekage. You're probably just another intern. I'm not that gullible."

"You're not too perceptive, either. Intern?"

"See? You're not the Kazekage, because he'd know about the-"

"What's your name." Gaara cut in dryly. There was another brief silence then the girl blurted out

"Aishiteru." Although his face did not change in the slightest, Gaara's mind immediately went in 59 different directions. This girl had just told him she loved him. He had been talking to her for less than 5 minutes. And then-ah no. Yashamaru had told him that as well. But then she had-was this girl going to try and kill him? She loved him? What? She was lying. Who the hell was she, anyway? He had asked her what her name was and she told him she loved him? He had instinctively drawn his sand up around him.

"Hey, Hey, don't freak out, it's my name. It's my name!" she repeated louder.

"Wha?" Gaara breathed, even more confused.

"Yes, my parents named me that. I think they were high when they did so. This is just speculation here, but I think the conversation must have gone something like this:

_I'm having your baby._

_Really? I love you. _

_We should name the baby that. _

_Okay._

Gaara, unable to fully hide his amusement, gave a small snort. His confusion had dissipated when she had explained her name. He let his sand slither back into its gourd in the corner of the room.

"Anyway, I go by Ai for short, which is kinda cool because it's on your forehead. So who are you, really? The Kazekage doesn't actually get here until 7:45, or so I'm told. It's only…" she glanced at her bare wrist.

"7:30." Gaara supplied.

"Uh-huh. I'm glad you're here. I thought I would be the only one working what purpose does an intern serve? I mean sure I'm a ninja, but I'm not really aspiring to become Kazekage. I'm betting he's some old geezer. Hopefully he won't be a perverted old geezer, I don't think I could deal with one of those. I'm going to have to be all polite and respectful in front of the Kazekage so I'm getting out all of my need for non-stereotypical talkativeness with you, I hope you don't mind because I'm gonna shut up when the man gets here." She bit her lip; something that Gaara thought made her look remarkably childish. "Hey, you haven't told me what your name is yet."

"Gaara." He said, knowing that she would now realize whom she was talking to. Kazekage or not, he was still considered a demon by a large part of the sand village. Now the girl's eyes would widen, she would look down, mutter a hasty apology and leave the room hurriedly.

"Hello, Gaara." She said politely, giving a low and very ostentatious bow. They she laughed, a moderately pitched, pleasant sort of sound. "That's a very…different, name. But it's nice. Although you have not officially passed."

"What?" Gaara asked briskly, not able to totally let his bewilderment go unnoticed. She didn't answer, but swiftly moved her face in front of his, so that their eyes were unable to not lock. Gaara had no idea what the hell she was doing or what the hell was going on. She continued to stare intently into his eyes. It was a bit unnerving, as was the notion of her sleeping under his desk.

He was about to say something, but then slipped into her eyes and lost his train of thought. They were odd, this girl's eyes. He hadn't really noticed them before, but now that he was kind of in them, he realized that they were a conglomeration of colors. He decided he wouldn't put anything past those eyes. They had a twinkle that held much more than just mischievousness, or mirth, but had a feeling that her eyes could not ever possibly hold malice. They were too beautiful to be anything but pure. And he bet that if he leaned in a little farther, he could disappear, forget himself and swim in the multi-faceted pool of oblivion forevermore…

"Gaara? You okay?" He heard Ai's voice as if from a distance, and was suddenly swept away back into himself. He saw her looking at him with amused skeptiscm written into the smooth plain of her face.

"What was that?" he demanded rather than asked.

"What was what?" she sounded just as he confused as he felt.

"Just now, you…you did…some-what, no, WHY did you do or more HOW-"

"Are you okay? You never answered me. And I didn't do anything. I just stared at you to see how you would react. Who knew someone could go so long without blinking?" She chuckled lightly. "Anyway, you have been appraised and deemed worthy! You passed the test! Let's be friends?" She stuck out her hand for him to shake and smiled hopefully.

Gaara had never really had a friend, in the sense that he and another person mutually agreed to become friends. He had Kankuro and Temari, but they were sibling friendly. No one had ever actually asked them to be their friend. Well, Ai hadn't **technically **asked him, but since the statement was understood to have a question mark at the end of it, it was close enough. He slowly reached out his hand to grasp hers. It was an unusual feeling, touching another person's skin when not inflicting harm upon them. But with Ai, it was nice, he supposed. If you could call the weird tingly his hand was doing nice.

"I'll take that as a yes." She said, brightening her smile. "So now, we've got to wait for the Kazekage to arrive. Oh, and if he asks, I was never near his desk."

"You're near it right now." Gaara said. At that, Ai scooted seven paces to the right.

"Now I'm not, and I _never was._"

"I'm not so sure the Kazekage is going to believe that."

"And why not?"

"Because-" But Gaara was never able to finish that sentence, because at that precise moment, an orderly walked in. He glanced briefly in their direction, looked away, and then did a double take.

"Kazekage-sama. I am deeply sorry for this disturbance." He started, giving a solemn bow. "The girl was reported missing last night and due to her previous disgraceful behavior, we-"

"What!" Ai exclaimed indignantly. The man straightened up swiftly, a glare in his eyes that was clearly not pleased.

"Do **_not,_** interrupt me when I am speaking with the Kazekage." He said in a tone that was much sterner then necessary. Ai shifted her still somewhat heated gaze to the floor. "I apologize for any disturbance she's caused, I assure you she will be dealt with later. Afterwards, she will make a full apology to-"

"Actually, that won't be necessary." Gaara cut in. "You see, she has a job to do. So, that is if you don't mind of course," he threw in mockingly, "I would like to brief my new assistant on her duties privately. I'm sure you know where the door is."

"Y-yes, Kazekage-sama. Gomen." He threw one last glare Ai's way. She didn't notice, as her eyes were still glued to the floor. But Gaara did. The man gave a short, somewhat embarrassed nod of his head and left the room, clicking the door shut behind him. There was an awkward silence, and then Ai looked up.

"S'he gone?" she stage whispered so that Gaara could hear.

"Uh, yeah." Gaara replied in a normal tone, after spending half a second contemplating on whether he should whisper back. He grabbed a pile of folders off his desk and motioned her over to the desk. "These are the missions and which cells they are assigned to. Don't assign a cell higher than a C-class mission without consulting me first. They are divided into ranks; different rank, different folder. This should be a fairly easy task, but-"

"Wait, you're actually briefing me on my duties?"

"Duty. You have more, but I don't have time to go into those."

"I thought you said that to get Tashita to leave?" She said incredulously.

"No."

"Meaning I'm an assistant? I thought I was just an intern." Ai said questioningly.

"Yes, well you've been promoted."

"YEAH! Does that mean I get to live here now!"

"What! No! And don't sleep under my desk, it makes me paranoid."

"Yes si-" in the middle of the sentence, it seemed as if some one had cleaned off a dusty lightbulb in her head. She made an "oh" with her mouth and bowed low. "Uh, forgive my earlier behavior, Kazekage-sama. I didn't realize that you were you. I apologi-"

"If I wanted you to apologize, I would have let that man finish his sentence." Gaara said before realizing it. "You sound like-what's his name. The guy that just left."

"Tashita-san." She said thoughtfully after straightening up. "You're not a very orthodox Kazekage, so is it okay for us to be friends?"

"I'm unorthodox?" Gaara scolded himself mentally. Here someone was, actually ASKING him if he would be their friend, and he avoids answering.

"Not exactly, but you're young, your hair is messy, you've got a tattoo on your forehead, you're-"

"Okay, I, get the picture."

"So, can we be friends?" Gaara thought for a second.

"On one condition." He said authoritatively once his second for thought was over. "Don't call me Kazekage-sama." Ai smiled warmly.

"Alright then, Gaara. We're friends." She said, putting emphasis on the name. Her eyes lit up. "Can I call you Gaara-chan?"

"NO."

"Aww, but it's so-"

"Go assign missions." Gaara said, cutting her. Wait a minute. Was it okay for friends to do that? They were friends, she had just said they were friends. As it turned out, she didn't think it was rude at all. She just grabbed the folders and ran out, flashing him a "V" as the doors closed. Time for the council meeting. Maybe he could talk to Ai about it afterwards. Did friends do that? Yes, yes they did. On TV, anyways. But real life was never as perfect as the movies. He'd just have to see how 'friends' would work out.

A/N: There! The official end of chapter one! Clap for me, I got on my ass and typed this up for YOU::points at you: So you better review. Oh, and this little poem type thing is something I wrote on the side of my notes for this fic.

Bastards

In the

Sand village

Hurt the

Beautiful panda

They will pay

With their lives

And he will

Gain meaning.

OH! And I will be on vacation for and will not get back until most likely July 1st, so no updates until then, unfourtunately. Although I will publish something on July 3rd to commemorate my birthday. :insert happy here:


	3. NOTICE!

Gomen, gomen to every one, for I know that it is not very fun to be alerted that an author whose story your reading will be unable to update for quite a while due to the fact that she is FINALLY getting a new computer, but will be unable to transfer all of the files. (I have lost an copious amounts of floppy disks and paper containing fics, and I blame the abyss that is my room.) That's what's going onwith me and my life other than searching for inspiration and trying to find out whether Mitch Hedburg is dead or not.

So, I am very heartily apoligizing for the broad spacing between my updates, and the fact that I am lazy.

This notice is to alert the fic reading community that I have not died, I am just going away for awhile. It is my sincerest hope that you will still be here reading my fics when I return. Well, not just you reading my fics over and over again, but like all the people that read fics, I hope they ---ah screw it. Basically, I'm leavin', but I'm comin' back, so WAIT FOR ME BITCHES! DO NOT FORGET ABOUT ME AND MY FICS! RAWRRR!

I love y'all, thanks. ;:smiles:; Tata for now.

…I probably should have put this on my profile instead…maybe later…

BYE!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: ITACHI COMES IN HERE! This chapter is actually kinda cliché. And I am sorry that he is OOC, but I had to write it before I could go back to the manga and read up on his personality. (Yeah, I do that. Wanna fight about it?) I mean, I don't remember if he speaks idly, or if he's one of the stoic evil ones, or what. I picture him as the type of villain who isn't cold, but is everything but nice. He strikes me as a sort of non assuming villain, and is very real. He doesn't have emotions, he doesn't get angry. The only thing he experiences that even remotely resembles an emotion is an extremely mild annoyance. If he wants something to stop, it just does, whether it stops by itself or not. But for this fic to work, he can't be like that. So, I took poetic license. Don't sue me. Scythemistress is here, and she is providing me with motivation (more like threatening my life). Cha.

ATTENTION ALL ITACHI JUNKIES! I really don't want to have to read the manga again, so tell me in your reviews what the actual Itachi should be like, and I will try to better his him…ness. To an extent.

Kurai's outfit consists of:

-Akatsuki cloak with cut off sleeves and a hem a few inches above her knees

-fishnet shirt (with thumbholes in the sleeves), red tank top underneath

-fishnet stockings

All right whatever. Stop reading the author's note and read the fic.

"Itachi, you have completed your mission successfully, as usual, but where is Kisame?"

"Kisame was a, regrettable, casualty." Itachi answered, sitting up rigidly in the plush armchair positioned in front of The Man's desk. "I require no replacement. I work more efficiently left to my own devices." The Man gave an amused chuckle.

"Yes, I remember your sentiments concerning this particular issue. Do you remember what I said the last time this "issue" came up?" The Man didn't wait for answer, as if sensing that the addressed wasn't going to give one. "I said that as long as you are in this organization, it is mandatory that you have a partner.

"Now," he said, motioning to a lackey who handed him a folder, "being as all of the males in this fine upstanding establishment are assigned to someone already, I am going to assign you a solo mission." Itachi smiled coldly on the inside. "Her name is Kurai.

"I am not allowed to disclose her surname, being as she is the granddaughter of the sickly leader of this association. She will be under the impression that you have been assigned as her partner. Just play along. Oh, and if she is to "expire" under your supervision, there will be consequences. Severe consequences." As if on cue, the bulky men in the room twitched their pecs all as one.

Already annoyed, Itachi looked upon the highly muscled men with disdain. They would be completely useless if an S-class criminal was to decide that he was unhappy with the management. And unhappy he was. His mission was to look after a girl? He would rather have been given a partner. At least then when they bothered him, he could kill them. If he killed this girl, he would have both the Akatsuki and the rest of the known world after him. Itachi watched The Man's sweaty adam's apple moved up and back down as he swallowed. Disgusted, Itachi mentally ripped out the hated man's throat, crushing the imaginary vocal cords in his fists. He despised The Man. He even despised the Akatsuki. He was only a part of it because it provided a sort of refuge for higher level criminals skilled enough to out-smart their villages ANBU. Here he was, if not welcomed, at least with people who did not give a damn about him killing his clan. Now, he could kill whomever bothered him, and, by the identification of the cloak, it would be pinned on the organization instead of him specifically.

"She is not too keen on having a partner either, so you to should get along." Itachi highly doubted this. The last person he had gotten along with had been **Chishou. **(A/N: Is that the best friend he killed's name? If I'm wrong, tell me in your reviews.) "Kurai!" the man shouted.

There was a silence, then a muffled commotion on the other side of the wall, then the door fwung (A/N: Yes, it is a word. I just used it, didn't I?) open and a girl with fulsome crimson hair and a modified Akatsuki cloak was thrust through.

"BLEEP!" she shouted.

"Pardon?" The Man asked.

"I wanted to cuss." Kurai said, looking down at her hands. "Screw it. FUCK!"

"Kurai, what did you do to your cloak?" The Man sighed.

"I fixed it. Why?"

"'Cause you look like the Akatsuki whore." Said one of the big guys in the corner. There was a silence and the room was suddenly filled with a chi that was as red as Kurai's hair.

"O you bastard." Suddenly a double-edged scythe appeared seemingly out nowhere. Unless you were Itachi, you didn't see the quick hand seals Kurai had performed. Itachi noted her speed; she was apparently a skilled ninja. She was probably faster than Kisame. And there was no doubt she was going to be even more of an annoyance.

"Kurai, I'd like you to meet your new partner." The Man said authoritatively as Kurai lunged for the offending goon. She paused mid-lunge.

"What? We've discussed this before. I told you; I don't want or need a partner. Co-existing is not my forte, as you well know." Kurai said, glaring at the thug as she stored her scythe and crossed her arms. Itachi felt his contempt for the girl steadily building. She was nothing but a spoiled brat who was used to getting everything her way.

"Is this her?" she asked after catching sight of Itachi. "She looks too skinny." At this he stood up and faced Kurai, body language showing clear contempt. "Oh, you're a man, sorry." She said with an apologetic smile. "I thought you were my new partner. And, hey," she said, noticing his hostile posture, "skinny is a good look for you."

"He is." The Man said, standing up. "Kurai, meet Itachi."

"Hi Itachi, and he is what?" she asked. There was a moment of silence as the gears in Kurai's brain whizzed about. "HE'S MY NEW PARTNER!" she yelled. "BUT-he's a guy! MALE! As in non-female! He's a-you are a man, aren't you?" Kurai asked uncertainly, turning toward Itachi. "Cause, I…that is a man, right?" she asked turning towards The Man once more.

"Yes." The Man confirmed.

"Jus' checking." She said briefly before continuing with what she had been saying. "MALE! What if he tries to rape me!" She exclaimed. "Oh, man, if I get raped, it's on you. It's on you!" she turned to leave, and then stopped. "We're partners; try not to make a big deal out of it." She said, keeping her back toward Itachi. "And, don't rape me." Then she swept out dramatically.

I'm lazy, so I fear that is all I can give you for now. I love you, the last person who reviewed! This portion of a chappie is for you!


End file.
